


the disappearance of lisa silverman

by enmity



Category: Persona 2, Persona Series
Genre: F/F, Post-Eternal Punishment Bad Ending, Pre-Res
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 09:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14668185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enmity/pseuds/enmity
Summary: But it feels like maybe they’re less than friends now, and maybe it’d be easier if she knewwhy, and. It just stings, that’s all.





	the disappearance of lisa silverman

**Author's Note:**

> this had more angst than i expected LMFAO but it's the bad ending... anyway, this is a slightly more hopeful take on lisa in the outcome that she regains her memories, which already wasn't supposed to happen. in this one at least it isn't implied she's never gonna move on & her life is gonna suck forever, which is already something i revisit ridiculously often, i feel bad

Chika likes to think she’s a good friend. Well, sure, maybe it’s not saying much, considering pretty much everyone wants to be a friend of Lisa’s these days – and you know, it’s a good thing she’s getting along; besides, Chika’s kind of grown past the phase of mildly resenting not having the guts to admit her feelings before newfound popularity and vocal training ate into Lisa’s free time  – but it should mean something, right, when a girl always waves at the general direction of your table when she’s waiting in line for her food at Peace Diner? (She asks Noriko and she says yes without a missing a beat, but by now Chika suspects that half the things Noriko says to reassure her is to make Chika feel better about her prospects.)

It’s not like anyone else sits there, anyway, and besides, it’s a nice feeling, being noticed by someone you like. So what if it’s wishful thinking? Hoping doesn’t make her a bad person, or a bad friend. This is what Chika tells herself when she’s watching (it’s force of habit; being observant is part of her job too) when she’s watching Lisa giggle with her friends over a crush of her own, when she’s watching Lisa looking at a boy who won’t look back at her, when she’s watching Lisa pass her by in the hallways after school, always preoccupied with someone else, something else, these days.

She doesn’t know whether to be disappointed in Lisa or herself when the other girl eventually stops coming over to the diner – because stars-to-be are supposed to watch their diet, that’s to be expected – and then she settles to feel pathetic instead, just a little bit, and if no one notices how her usual smile veers on the edge of lopsided today, then that’s just fine. It’s not like she was hoping someone would.

.

“That idol stuff’s put on hold right now,” Lisa starts, one day, leaning her elbow against the table as she stirs the ice in her milkshake, and for a moment Chika has to look up from her notebook and try not to think about how long it’s been since they got the chance to talk. A while.

It’s funny how she remembers Lisa’s absence more than she does the entire city taking flight and settling back down and her family’s relief when it turned out she hadn’t been kidnapped in all the chaos, but a lot of stuff that’s happened the past few weeks feel blurred around the edges, too surreal to believe but too vivid to explain away as a dream, either. If she hadn’t gotten the chance to write it down, she might’ve found it hard to trust herself too.

“Really?” she replies, conversational.

“My producer went missing and now he’s – well, he was leading some kind of cult? – and he’s conked out in the hospital right now, so who knows when he’ll be back, not that I ever really trusted his crazy ass in the first place,” Lisa continues. “It sucks that all our effort went to waste because of this, though. And now everyone’s so busy recovering the damage that happened after that cult tried to bring about the end of the world… Anyway, just goes to show that sometimes stuff doesn’t go according to plan.” She tilts her head and laughs, light-hearted despite the tiredness and disappointment she’s not doing a very good job of hiding, and Chika doesn’t know why, but she wonders if she isn’t telling her everything. “Did you miss me? We haven’t talked in a while.”

Chika manages to smile without bitterness. “Come on,” she says, “it’s not like my life revolves around you.” But then she makes a face, “Of course I do.”

They both laugh and – and this should be it, right? Should be the moment where she realizes they’re still friends and everything goes back to the rhythm of normalcy, and they’ll all graduate and move on and the fluttering in her chest will turn into a memory she’ll make fun of herself for, and…

.

Except it isn’t. Except that the Lisa in front of her is somehow different than the one she fell for, off in a way she can’t pinpoint, and it feels like ever since she came back to school there’s a bigger distance than ever between them she doesn’t know how to begin to bridge. And it’s not like she’s that pathetic, really, heartbreak doesn’t spell the end of the world for her, but…

(“I can’t go with you today,” Lisa says, shrugging away Chika’s hand on her shoulder, almost flippant, and suddenly Chika’s bag feels heavier. She smiles ruefully, “I’ve got homework, you know how it is. I missed a lot of school and the teachers are all out for me now. You’re still a first-year, you probably don’t get it.”

“Yeah,” Chika relents, stepping away, “I guess I don’t,” and doesn’t say something like, _are you okay?_ , or _I’m worried about you,_ and if she notices Lisa turning left instead of right outside the gate, away from the direction of her house, she doesn’t mention it.)

But it feels like maybe they’re less than friends now, and maybe it’d be easier if she knew _why_ , and. And it just stings, that’s all.

.

“I’ve been wondering, actually,” she decides to bring up one day, after midterms are done and over with and Lisa doesn’t have an excuse not to take up her offer to walk home together. Her voice is calm, surprising herself; her grip on her bag tightens as if to prove a point. The sky offers no consolation. “Did you ever go out with Suou? From class B? I thought you liked him.”

Lisa takes a moment before answering, pretending she’s trying to remember something, like she didn’t spend ages worried where he’d gone when he’d suddenly decided to up and ditch school for two weeks straight. She sucks in her stomach, looking like she’s holding something in. Her shoulders slant a little; she looks small, suddenly, and it’s hard to see the face she’s making from this angle, surrounded by light. Chika decides not to wonder. Sometimes pretending is better.

“I asked him and he turned me down,” she replies, but sounds like, _why did you have to bring that up?_ (She doesn’t know.) “He didn’t feel that way for me, and I lost interest afterwards. That’s all, really. It’s no fun if you’re the only one doing the chasing.” But her footsteps have slowed down and she isn’t looking at the street ahead anymore, but at the ground, the languid shadows stretched by the streetlamps and signs. “I don’t think about him at all.”

“H-Hey, come on,” Chika starts, regretting herself, “he’s probably not as good as you thought, if he couldn’t notice you. Hey. I’m sorry, okay? I won’t bring it up again.”

“Thanks,” Lisa smiles. She blinks something away – maybe irritation or something worse. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

“Sorry,” Chika says again, only because she doesn’t quite believe that look in her eyes. She doesn’t bring it up again, not even when she hears, by chance, from one of the girls in Lisa’s class that _it’s sure a good thing Lisa never confessed to Tatsuya—he would’ve accepted for sure—a girl’s heart is fickle like that, I guess._

Sometimes pretending is better.

.

The third-years’ graduation comes and goes. Chika busies herself with a writeup for the last issue of the school paper she’ll be working on with her seniors, content by the side-effect of it distancing herself comfortably from Lisa and her own embarrassment, wondering if maybe she’ll change her mind and confess to him after all and pretending she doesn’t feel a bit of relief when she never does.

Lisa holds herself surprisingly well for a week, smiling and laughing as easily as always in an act anyone would believe, but one afternoon Chika is walking down an unfamiliar road after chasing a story and when she passes by an old shrine she remembers visiting as a child during festival season she spots a blonde girl hugging her knees at the bottom of the wooden stairs, and it gives her pause.

“Hey! Lisa,” she waves, smiles a little despite herself, and approaches. “This shrine is pretty nice – I always forget there’s a place like this so close to our school. Kinda mysterious, too, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Lisa replies, after a moment. “I was feeling – nostalgic, I suppose, so I ended up coming here. I didn’t expect you’d find me. I used to play here all the time, you know?” Her expression twists into something hollow; she hangs her head again. “With – Tatsuya.”

“I’m sorry,” Chika says, “did I make you think of him? I’m sorry for what I said. I really am.”

It had been a while ago, but she knows well the capability of a girl’s heart to begrudge. It had been easy, once, to feel a spike of upset every time the other girl turned down her offer to go out in the weekends, or to curse her for Chika’s own weakness, the choosing to stay quiet of her feelings in exchange for being able to continue looking at her from afar, regretting the what-if all the while. It had been easy, back then, to see that as a compromise she’s willing to make. Regret takes its place now, but she’s confident the prick she feels in her chest when she looks at Lisa now is something that won’t last forever.

“No, it’s not your fault,” she says, “I was always – chasing after him. In the other world, and this one too… I’m really such a horrible girl. In the other world we knew each other as kids, and I liked him even then, even after I forgot him and remembered all over again. But that place is gone now. We gave up our memories to save the future, but Tatsuya – the one I knew – he wanted to remember me.”

Her voice falters and she pauses, exhaling. “Me, and all our other friends. Even though he just wanted to remember, he regretted it, and now he’s given up himself and his memories just so the world won’t end a second time. But I remembered. I remembered even though he couldn’t. He doesn’t recognize me anymore, but every time I look at him, I think, ‘that could’ve been me _’._ I could’ve been the one who couldn’t bear to give him up. It’s not fair!” She chokes, “It’s not fair. He’s always like that! How come he’s the one who has to bear the burden all by himself while I’m forced to stand back? And now he's gone. He isn't here and he isn't anywhere and now I'll never see him again. It’s not fair…”

“Sorry about that,” Lisa manages to hiccup out, after enduring a minute of silent tears. Chika almost winces; Lisa wipes away at her eyes, looks at her lap. “Just forget I ever said anything. You probably think I’m crazy right now, huh?”

“It’s okay,” Chika says, “I won’t pretend I understand, but – I’m not going to laugh at you, or say you’re lying, if that’s what you’re thinking. And you’ve already told me a lot. If you ever want to tell me the rest, I’m … I’ll listen, you know? I’m still your friend, aren’t I?” she reaches to overlap her palm with Lisa’s.

“Are you sure?” She manages to smile, faint and wan through the overflowing tears. “It’s a long story.”

Chika squeezes her hand, looks at her.

“I’ll listen, okay? That’s a promise.”


End file.
